


Occurring in a Different Place or Time

by Vee



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-22
Updated: 2009-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-21 13:36:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vee/pseuds/Vee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Near-death experiences just aren't what they used to be. Apparently budget cuts have left them with the construct from The Matrix, and that's that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Occurring in a Different Place or Time

Somewhere in nowhere, Christopher Pike gasped to consciousness with a burst of energy that came from the adrenaline rush of remembering what was going on.The air he sucked in was cleansing, fresh, the sort of air that filled his lungs with one breath and didn't burn in his throat. He wasn't in the bowels of a modified Romulan mining ship anymore. First, a wave of excitement hit when he thought that, maybe, he had been rescued. Just as quickly it broke and ebbed, as the blankness and emptiness all around him suggested that something more somber was the case.  
  
He relaxed onto his back, more of a fitful resignation than an actual calm. Of all the emotions he'd expected to feel when he died, cynical disappointment hadn’t been at the top of the list. He found some solace in the assurance that his body had given in before they'd broken his will.   
  
Then, something jabbed him the ribs. That something turned out to be a booted foot. "You're not dead. Get up."   
  
He was scrambling in his mind, sitting up, confused, too distracted now to be grateful for his life. On top of that, he wasn't sore. He wasn't hurting at all, showed no marks, bruises, or scars. How long had it  _been_  since he was on that ship?  
  
Craning his head around to find the owner of the voice, he kept missing him. "What happened, where am I? Tell me now." He channeled all his training into the words, pushing his control past the confusion. Finally he turned around.  
  
There really was nothing here. Not even a line on the horizon. Just white. It made the stranger in front of him look even more dark, less kempt. He sighed at Pike and glanced aside when he started speaking. He looked positively miserable to be there, and kept his hands in his pockets during what seemed to be some sort of routine.   
  
"Stay calm. You're having a near death experience and I'm here to make sure you don't lose your head."   
  
It took Pike a moment to register this. "That's…" he'd always been a spiritual sort of man, but never had he really believed in any sort of thing like this. There were no angels in worn-out jeans and trail jackets in anyone's vision of the other world, he imagined. Never mind, though, it was no time to be skeptical, "…all right. Fine. At least I'm not dead. And you are?"  
  
He caught the sarcastic tone in Pike's voice, and fastened his eyes on him. "I'm supposed to introduce myself as your guardian angel, but that's all a bunch of bull. I've never met you before, I'm just assigned to you this shift."  
  
Pike pulled a face, though he didn't mean to, and it must have showed. The angel – angel, really? – rolled his eyes mightily. He sounded like he'd just stumbled out of bed, and looked it, too. If angels had beds. If he really was an angel.   
  
"Okay, then. So, being an angel is like a job?" All things considered, Pike was trying to take the whole situation well.  
  
Here was a man who reminded him of a few Starbase commanders he had known – gruff, no-nonsense, could stop you dead with a glare. It took one of those glares for Pike to suddenly be more interested in this guy's story than his own.   
  
"I'm on probation, you could say. If you must know. Just so you know for the future, this is what happens when you pick a fight up here. There's a lot of hierarchy. Middle management is a bitch to reason with." He sighed again and crouched down, held a hand out almost begrudgingly. "I'm John."   
  
Pike shook his hand. He had the grip to match those Starbase roughnecks, too. "Captain Christopher Pike, Starship Enterprise."   
  
John's eyebrow quirked, but he didn't pay too much mind. "Fair enough," whatever that meant, "in the service?"  
  
"Going on my second decade, on duty as we speak. You too? Starfleet?"  
  
This time, he was given more than an eyebrow. John looked like he was downright tired of Pike's crap. That look was universal.   
  
"No, Buck Rogers, I'm United States Marine Corps. Retired."  
  
Pike mouthed 'Buck Rogers' with a curious look and felt insulted, though he had no idea why. Just that feeling of implication, of 'I'm supposed to be indignant about this'. "Listen, I just got tortured by a Romulan who claims to be from the future, and I'm sitting in some sort of other-worldly waiting room, so I'm open to a lot of possibility. It's my job. When are you from?"  
  
"2006. Died to save my boy. It's complicated."   
  
"That's noble." He nodded without a shred of irony, "And as I expected, I'm from quite some time after that."   
  
"How long?"  
  
Importantly, Pike just stared at him. "A long time." He gave John some time and looked over at the nothing on his left side, as if it would be any different from the nothing in the other direction.  
  
"They don't exactly give you a lot of training with this gig. I've not dealt with anyone from the – my- future. It doesn't really matter, though. What's the story?" He paused and quickly added: "I'm not supposed to be so pally, here, but to be honest there's not that much mystery to preserve." John still wasn't near smiling, but at least Pike no longer felt a fear of being laid out for the slightest verbal infraction.   
  
"Very complicated situation. New ship, rescue mission. When we reached our destination – that is, planet Vulcan – out fleet had been decimated. And it was all the one ship, this one guy. Romulan, not that I'd expect that from any species…" He sighed, rubbed his temples, and tried to compose his thoughts. This would all have to go in a log later, when he came to, when he escaped or was rescued or whatever would happen. "This makes no sense to you. I'm sorry."  
  
"Hey, don't apologize to me, you're the one who was facing all that." John acted ready to reach over and slap Pike on the back, but held himself.   
  
"I've got a couple of kids running my ship and I don't know what sort of Hell I'm leaving them in."  
  
"Are they good – "  _it's the future, John, don't say "men"_  – "officers?"  
  
Pike half-laughed. "One is. A little too good. The other's not even really an officer, he's technically grounded, for crying out loud. I don't even know how he ended up on my ship! He's headstrong and incorrigible but he's a damn fine young man. I trust him."  
  
John finally managed a tiny smile. "Sounds like my son. One of 'em. My oldest."  
  
"You must be proud. No kids, myself. Maybe I'm projecting."  
  
"Nah. In my experience, mentoring is never about blood. In fact, you probably have it easier than I did. Balancing the drill sergeant with the parent is a hell of a time. If he's any sort of man he'll respect you more for treating him like one."  
  
Pike had to chuckle at the slightly refreshing, if almost archaic patriarchal tone.   
  
"Yeah, if only he'd stop chasing skirts long enough to tell me as much. Nah, I'll never expect that. He'll be fine."  
  
"Okay, now he really sounds like my son. Do you think it's reincarnation?"  
  
"Sort of broody, overly cocky, swaggers around like God's gift?"  
  
"But he's a helluva fighter and a crack shot."  
  
"Shit, I think you're on to something."  
  
They laughed together, comfortably. Pike breathed in deeply, not really knowing what to expect now that he'd relaxed into the idea of a near-death experience.  
  
John broke the silence. "Well, it's good to know he's made something of himself, even in another life. Dean wouldn't have it any less than to know he still made an impression."  
  
"Dean. Good name."  
  
"And your cocky young officer – or, that is, non-officer?"  
  
"James. Jim." He corrected himself quickly.   
  
John nodded in approval. "He'll be fine. And you'll be, too." He slapped him on the thigh.   
  
"It's been a while, though, hasn't it? What if I don't come to?"  
  
"You will. Dying's a pain in the ass, much as it happens every day. We're short-staffed and there's too much paperwork. I'd say just be ready to come out fighting."   
  
"Oh, I will be. I don’t intend to give up now or any other time."  
  
"Get back to your ship, Captain Pike."


End file.
